Fragments of the Past
by JadeHeart
Summary: The sins of the father can carry on.
1. Fragment 1

Title: Fragments of the Past: Fragment 1

Author: JadeHeart

Located/Archived: UK TV- Past & Present. If anyone would like it, please ask me first!

Creation Date: 1997

Fandom: Blakes 7

Rating: M

Warnings: mild thoughts on violence/death

Spoilers/Timeline: Post Blakes 7 TV series (approx 15-20 years after)

Original Characters: The characters of Kerran, Veril, Calan, Zev and Regin are mine.

Summary: The sins of the father can carry on.

Author's Notes:** This is merely some thoughts about what could have been after the final of Blake's 7**.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the idea/outline of Blake's 7, this belongs to the original creators, nor am I making any profits from this.

FRAGMENT 1 

The girl's sharp eyes flashed as she paced restlessly across the room. She stopped suddenly and spun around, the movement catching the man unawares for all that he had been watching her closely.

"Ten years!" she snapped. "We've been on the run for more than ten years!"

The man said nothing, but waited.

After a moment she sighed and sat down at the table opposite him. She rested her chin in her hands, elbows on the table. "So," she said in a more reasonable voice. "What are we doing next?"

Del leant forward also. "We'll finish here. We may have beaten the Federation so far but it's far from over."

She nodded agreement, 16 years of wisdom in her eyes.

Del continued to study her before speaking again. "What's wrong? You've been bad tempered for days."

She didn't look at him at first and then stood abruptly and turned away. "Nothing." she replied sullenly.

"Kerran," he said, warningly, letting her know he didn't believe it. She swung around to face him.

"Alright," she snapped. "I want to know the truth."

He was confused "Truth?" he questioned.

"The truth about my parents. Why wont you ever talk about my mother. What about my father? You know the truth. You've been keeping it from me for years."

"You don't know..." he began, before she interrupted him.

"Uncle, I've known for a long time that you've been keeping things from me. Why wont you tell me about my mother. Your sister, Anna."

Del Grant's mind wandered for a moment. Anna, he thought. My beautiful, treacherous, loving sister, Anna. He looked at the girl before him. He could see Anna in her, in the fiery temper, the bewitching smile, the easy laugh, the beauty. Yes, he could see Anna's legacy there, but he hoped that Anna's deviousness, lying, treachery did not lurk in her daughter's heart also. He had done all he could to prevent any call for that to occur, but he couldn't help but fear he might not have the power to prevent her taking the same path.

And what was more frightening was he could also see her father - in her quick, intelligent, logical mind, her intolerance for stupidity, her calm relentless patience, her intractable nature. Del could only hope that the good points from both parents would be able to outweigh the bad. Such a burden for a child to bear - such defects from two parents.

"Uncle?" her voice brought him back to the present. She was still waiting for his answer.

He met her steady unflinching gaze. Yes, her eyes were definitely her father's - not the colour, for they were the light green of Anna's, but the intensity was definitely her father's.

He sighed. He had known that this day would come one day, just not realised it would be so soon, nor had he realised how difficult he would find it. He motioned her to sit again which she did and then sat back patiently for him to begin. Yes, definitely like her father.

"As you know, Anna was my only sister. She was younger than I by a number of years and we had been placed in separate care homes after the death of our parents, but we still kept in close touch. I joined the Federation space academy for training and after a time realised what the Federation was really like so I left and became a mercenary. Any news of Anna after that I learnt in bits and pieces, except for a couple of brief meetings. I didn't want to endanger her.

Whilst I had been gone, Anna had married. She wasn't happy in the marriage, I knew that much and I never contacted her directly. She had asked me not to in case her husband learnt of it. Then, on my last visit to Earth, I met her lover. I didn't entirely agree with her infidelity but she seemed so happy, happier than I had ever seen her. She really seemed to love him and he was devoted to her, that much was evident. She spoke of leaving her husband and escaping with her lover. I didn't ask for details, I thought it was just talk. I left and continued on my way.

Later I heard the news that Anna had been picked up by the Federation, and died under interrogation. Her lover had escaped." he paused for a moment, studying his hands. "I blamed him for her death. For living, whilst she had died. I blamed him for a long time."

Kerran spoke up impatiently. "I know that much. You've told me this before. But there's more, isn't there?"

Del cleared his throat to begin again. "Yes, there's more." he looked her straight in the eyes. "You may not want to hear the rest. I don't think you'll like what you do hear."

She said nothing for a moment but then her jaw clenched and her eyes hardened. "It's my choice and I stand by it. What else?" He mentally shrugged. He could protect her no longer.

"That story was the only story I knew. I met Anna's lover once more, a few years later. Completely unexpectedly. I still blamed him for Anna's death but it was the first chance I had had to actually hear his side of it. He convinced me he could have done nothing to save Anna. And if he had been able to he would have. I believed him. We didn't part exactly as friends, but we were no longer enemies. It wasn't till much later that I received word from one of his comrades, telling me the truth about Anna.

You see, she hadn't died back when we had assumed. That story had been false. She had been living a double life all along. A life I had absolutely no idea of at all, that he had no idea about. She rarely went by the name of Anna Grant. She was commonly known as Sula, and her husband was a Federation councillor called Chesku."

He saw the girl's grimace of distaste and couldn't help but let his lips twitch in a small smile. "Don't worry. He wasn't your father." The flash of relief amused him, then he sobered and continued.

"The story told me was that Anna's lover planned to get his revenge for her death. He tracked down and trapped the chief interrogator of that time, a man called Shrinker. I don't know all the details, but Shrinker told him that another Federation agent, Bartholomew, had been controlling he and Anna's movements. My informant stated that Anna's lover hadn't killed Shrinker, at least he didn't pull the trigger, but to be assured that he was dead. Make of that what you will.

Following this lead, her lover went to Earth to find the Terran President, Servalan. Apparently the only person to know who Bartholomew really was." He heard her indrawn breath and smiled. "A rather audacious plan, no?" he continued. "When they arrived they walked in on a palace coup. They found that Servalan had been captured by a small band of rebels, lead by ... Sula."

Her brow furrowed in puzzlement. "She was really a rebel?"

He slowly shook his head. "She was Bartholomew."

He saw the dawning look of horror on her face and nodded as understanding began. "She had been the Federation's top security agent for many years. Very few people knew who she really was. Servalan had been one. Why she then decided to throw in her lot with these rebels I don't know. No-one ever will as they were all executed. But imagine the irony of it all. Her lover searching the galaxy over to track down her killers, to revenge her death. To then suddenly be confronted by Anna, alive.

For that is what happened. It didn't take him long to realise the truth of the matter himself. To put two and two together and realise that Anna Grant and Bartholomew were one and the same. That she had been working for the Federation all along."

He looked back down at his clasped hands in front of him. "I can't imagine how devastating that must have been for him. To be betrayed like that by the woman he had loved so passionately, even after death." He looked up again. "Apparently something happened. My informant didn't know what. She merely saw Anna make a sudden move for her gun while her lover's back was turned and called out a warning. He was quicker than her."

"He killed her." it was a statement.

Del nodded. "Anna didn't die straight away. Her lover held her as she did. Anna claimed that she had known that he would kill her when he realised her double identity, so she had tried to kill him first. It's all so stupid and pointless. Even then, they both admitted to loving each other, in their own way. I never really believed how destructive love could be before that."

Kerran slowly stood and moved to the window. "So she was a Federation agent."

"Yes. Although, perhaps she wanted to change. Afterall, she did lead that rebel attack. And it might have worked."

"And there's no reason to doubt the validity of the information you received from your informant?"

Del shook his head. "She had nothing to gain from lying. And Cally was incapable of doing so."

The girl accepted this assurance calmly. She turned from the window. "So who is my father?"

Del was surprised. "Haven't you guessed? He's Kerr Avon."

She blinked at this news but outwardly made no other acknowledgment.

Grant continued to explain. "It was on learning that Anna had been alive for nearly another four years that I began checking myself, trying to trace her movements. And it was from that I learnt of you.

Anna had the ability and contacts to bear you in secret and then bury you in the system. She knew all the ways to do it to prevent the Federation finding you. But she did set up a failsafe so that information would become available to me as I accessed it so I would learn of your identity.

So with some luck and help I found you. Once I had I thought it would be better to take you with me than leave you behind. With Anna's death and her connections with the rebels, the Federation may have decided to do much as I did. I didn't want them finding you."

The girl still stood silently by the window, contemplating the quiet street outside.

"Some consolation may be the knowledge that no matter how mixed up, how stupid and tragic the whole thing turned out to be, they did love each other. Avon was prepared to move the entire Federation to avenge Anna. And Anna chose to have his child, protect you and give you his name. That is your legacy."

The girl turned at that and regarded him silently. He couldn't read her expression, it was carefully closed. Too like her father, he thought. "Are you sorry you asked?" he asked, wanting to know.

She shook her head. "Not sorry. More..." she paused, then shrugged. "I don't know. I need to think." She moved past him to go to the back sleeping quarters.

He sighed softly to himself, looking down as he unclamped his cramped fingers that he had been gripping so hard all this time.

Suddenly, two arms wrapped around his neck from behind. "Good night, Uncle." her soft voice whispered past his ear and cool lips brushed his cheek lightly. Then she was gone.

He sighed again, but more in relief this time. It would be alright. Somehow it would be alright.


	2. Fragment 2

FRAGMENT 2 

Where had he gone?

Marta looked out across the barren landscape. He had been gone much longer than usual. She feared for him sometimes. No, correction, she feared for him always. Betafarl was a dangerous place, had been for the past 15 years. Ever since Zukan (and she turned to automatically spit on the ground in disgust) had let himself be killed and the Federation had taken control.

Zukan had been a reasonably popular leader. Not exactly liked, but he demanded, and received, loyalty and respect from his people. And he had stood against the Federation which was what counted. But then he had become too greedy and ambitious. And had forgotten what made him a great leader. So he made a deal with the devil - a she-devil.

Marta spat again, with more force this time and with hatred. Zukan should have had more sense. From the time he contemplated even meeting with that black witch, Betafarl was doomed. He should have remained strong and if anything, joined with the rebels. But instead he had listened to _her_ and betrayed the rebels also. And in doing so he betrayed and lost his greatest treasure, worth more to him than anything in the entire universe. His daughter, Zeonna.

Marta sighed. She had loved Zeonna like her own daughter and missed her still. Long after she no longer had need of a nanny, Zeonna had spent many hours with Marta and none was closer. How could Zukan have lost control of his entire world so quickly? How could it have all fallen apart so suddenly? The Federation quickly moved in. They obviously had something to do with Zukan's death for he had been on his way home when his ship had been destroyed and the Federation were here almost immediately as though they had only been waiting for that event.

Fortunately, most of the population of Betafarl had enough sense to stand back and watch. Resistance would have been useless and merely a waste of time, energy and life. But there are other ways to win a war. So they waited.

The Federation introduced suppressants into the food stores and water reservoirs. So the people grew their own produce and went to the underground rivers to draw their water. Not all could do so, so there was a portion of the population under the Federation control, but enough were mostly free. Their time would come, so they were prepared to wait. Wait and watch. And when they finally moved, the Federation would suffer the torments of the Seven Hells for their perfidy. But that meant keeping a low profile and the boy was important. At all costs the Federation must never learn of his identify.

She shaded her eyes again. Still no sign and she anxiously gnawed at her lip. Should she go look for him? She let out a sigh and limped inside. There was little point in her trying to find him. He could be anywhere, so all she could do was to wait. She was too old to be gallivanting all over the countryside after children.

An hour or so later she heard the slight sounds that heralded the arrival of the cause of her worried imagination. She looked him over silently. Gone were the days she could have chided him. He was no longer a child, although no quite a man. His frame was tall and lanky. As he filled out further, he would look more athletic, not quite so... unfinished. The mass of curls crowning his head was a legacy from his father, as was the toothy smile, but the red highlights were all his mother's, as were the large almond shaped eyes that regarded her warily.

She half smiled at him and he visibly relaxed, knowing he was not going to be rebuked. He came over, poured two cups of steaming liquid from the simmering kettle, handed one to her and took the other, before seating himself at her feet. Her hands resumed their work on the small weaving loom before her. She needed more cloth to make clothes for the boy, who was growing rapidly.

"So?" she questioned. The boy took a sip, pulling a face as the hot liquid scalded his tongue, and set the cup aside to cool. She had already done the same.

"I was speaking with Gartel." Marta frowned slightly. She didn't particularly like Gartel. Too much of a hot-head, not prone to thinking things through and a little too ambitious for her liking. He would be the last person she would want to learn the true identity of the boy.

"And?" she prompted.

The boy shrugged. "He was asking a lot of questions. Wanted to know how we were related, why you kept me, that sort of thing."

Marta's flashing loom halted midway. "Did you tell him?"

The boy looked at her with scorn, as only a 15 year old could. "Of course not. I'm not stupid. I simply told him the same story you've always told." The loom resumed its motion.

"Good. Remember always that your identity would be the death of you. If anyone found out you were Zeonna's son you would be swiftly dead, not just from the Federation but our own people who feel that Zukan betrayed our trust."

"I know." He picked up his cup and took a hesitant sip. The drink had cooled enough so he took a larger swallow before speaking again, eyes watching her over the rim. "What would they think if they knew who my father was?"

Marta shook her head, knowing he was baiting her. "It would only make things worse."

"But one day, if Betafarl was to revolt against the Federation I could be instrumental in leading it, in establishing a rebellion. People may despise Zukan but they still acknowledge he was a good leader. And they almost revere Zeonna."

"That is because they pity the fact that she died because of Zukan's failings." Marta said sternly.

"Exactly. And if they knew my father was a well-known rebel that could add further credence to my claim."

"Perhaps." Marta agreed, but frowned on him. "Aren't you a little young to be planning a revolution?"

He laughed. "I'm not saying I would. I've just been thinking about it. And I would have to find someway of defeating that drug they use first. It would be no good rebelling before then. So I would have to look elsewhere first."

Yes, Marta thought to herself. He was already wishing to test his wings. It would not be too long before he learnt to fly, and his flight would take him far from here. She sighed softly to herself. All fledglings finally left the nest.

"Tell me again how my parents met?" he asked suddenly.

Marta glanced at him. It had been a long time since he had requested this story. All this brave talk of rebellion, death, suppression and freedom unnerved him, so he sought comfort in the truth of his parentage. The loom clicked softly in the background as she began to speak.

"You know who your mother was. Zeonna. A very beautiful young woman, with many suitors, but she had never met one who she was interested in, nor who could meet up to her father's high standards. Then her father, Zukan, began discussions with the leader of a rebel group. At the beginning I believe Zukan was sincerely going to side with them, to help them. I'm not certain when he changed his mind, or how the Federation learnt he was in touch with the rebels at all. But it is of no matter now. What's done is done.

During the course of the discussions two of the rebels came to Betafarl, to meet Zukan and assess the plans. The leader spent much of his time with Zukan, whilst the younger rebel was left with Zeonna.

There had been an instant attraction between them both, of that everyone was aware, even Zukan who did not look upon it at all favourably. But no-one realised that it went much deeper than just attraction, at least for Zeonna. She came to me and spoke for a long time. For the first time she had found someone she felt she could spend her life with, but the circumstances were hardly convenient.

After the rebels had left Zeonna came to me again. This time with a problem, although we both tended to view it more as a twist of fate, especially in light of events that followed. From the brief affair she had had, she now found she was with child. There was no question of not keeping the child. She wanted this child by the man she loved, but she had to know how he truly felt about her before she could tell him. She had no wish to trap him.

So we secretly arranged for the fertilised egg to be transferred to a test-tube for an in-vitro birth. It was extremely complicated, and dangerous. Zukan knew nothing of his daughter's condition and had to remain ignorant. Otherwise the child would never be born. Zukan loved his daughter dearly, but he could be extremely ruthless.

Covering up the transference meant that Zeonna had to get away, undetected for a time and disguised, to a practitioner. I claimed she was a distant kin of mine, who was very ill and so willing the child to me to raise as my own before she died. I have a few herbal skills and so Zeonna looked, and tested, as being very sick, which convinced them as they only do the most elementary tests. The transference itself is an extremely delicate operation. So many things can go wrong and result in the death of the child or the mother, or both.

So it was with great trepidation that we both faced this. I stayed with her the whole time. And even then, we had to wait 3 weeks before the clinic would state that the child had also survived. So with the deed done Zeonna smuggled herself on board the ship going to the rebel's base to see her lover again. She was able to send me only two brief messages. The first to confirm she had arrived safely and seen her lover and all was going well."

Marta stopped and smiled. "I understate that. She was deliriously happy and said he was thrilled she had returned to him. She had not yet told him of your existence."

Marta's face then sobered. "The second message was erratic. She told me Zukan had betrayed the rebels, had released some form of air-borne virus to kill them, not realising his own daughter was still there. They were doing all they could to neutralise it. I heard nothing more after that." Marta fell silent then, the loom continuing to flick backwards and forwards.

"So they both died there?"

Marta looked up in surprise. This was the first time he had asked further questions. He was indeed growing up. "I don't know." she replied truthfully. "I heard rumours that the rebels had escaped, although they died not long after. I believe your mother died on their base. She would have contacted me immediately if she had been able to. For your sake."

"So you raised me when I was born."

"Yes. As your mother asked me to."

"And my father never knew of me?"

Marta shrugged. "Zeonna may have told him at the last, but I don't believe she did or he would have come looking for you. Unless he deemed it too dangerous and guessed that the Federation would be here."

"So we don't know for certain if he is dead?"

"No. There is no certainty."

The boy merely nodded at that and swallowed the last of his now cold drink before standing and turning away. Marta watched him as he made to leave.

"Always remember who you are and believe in yourself, Zev Tarrant."

The boy smiled at her with confidence. "I do!"


	3. Fragment 3

FRAGMENT 3 

Inga sighed as the boy frowned at her. This argument was going nowhere, as it always did. They merely covered the same ground over and over again, never resolving anything. The boy's jaw was clenched in anger, with clenched fists at his side. Would she never be able to make him understand and accept his father's decisions?

She took a deep breath and attempted again, as she always did. "Your father believed in what he was doing." she said firmly.

Her son glared back. "He cared more about others than you or I!" he snapped out. As he had reached his teenage years his anger and bitterness had also grown.

Inga shook her head, her long brown hair streaked with grey now. "It's not that he didn't care about us. He just had so many other people to care about as well."

"We should have been more important!"

In her heart Inga agreed but she had also known Roj for exactly who and what he was. She sighed again and sat down while the boy continued to glare at her, not understanding how she could continue to defend the man who had abandoned her, and gone to another woman. Inga looked off into the distance for a moment.

"Regin," she began. "Your father was a good man. You must believe that. He had such a great capacity for caring that he couldn't just care about a small few. He was the only person to make a stand against the Federation in such a spectacular way.

Although a great deal of that was by chance, not design." She leant forward earnestly. "But he saw he could do something to try and stop the Federation tyranny. And he couldn't turn his back on that."

"He did when he came here!"

"He was wounded and still recovering. He was responsible for the defeat of the Andromedans. If he and the Liberator hadn't alerted us of the danger and held off the attack till reinforcements arrived, the Andromedans would have broken through. He is a hero."

"I don't care about heroes! He left us!" and boy spun round and stormed off.

"Regin!" Inga called after him, knowing he wouldn't return at that time.

She stared after him and sighed again before turning back to sit down. She felt tears prickle in her eyes, and blinked them away quickly. She was no simpering weakling to cry over nothing. Her harsh upbringing on X-bar assured that, and she had always remained positive, in control. There was no point in crying now, after everything was over and done with. It had all been finished more than 15 years ago.

But it wasn't really finished. She just had to look at her son to realise that. Ironic, that the man who millions of people revered as their saviour in the fight for freedom, was almost hated by his own son.

She picked up the dough she had begun before. The bread still needed to be made. The world doesn't just stop. Her strong hands began to knead the dough, her mind wandering back to the man she had loved.

Blake, Roj Blake, her cousin. Strong, gentle, kind, passionate. They had grown up together, learning about life, until things had changed. She had missed him when her father, Ushton, had been transported to the minimal security planet, X-bar. It was due to Blake's activities they were kept there. They were thankful that they hadn't been killed outright as other members of the family had been. Life had been extremely hard on X-bar, but they and the few others there had survived at least.

Then Travis had come and things had taken a new turn. She had been held captive by Travis, and she could admit that she had been scared, very scared. The crimmos had been frightening. Warped, almost faceless beings - barely human at all. She hadn't been sure she would live then. And it had all been just a ploy to get Blake. She hated to think that she was being used as bait. She had told them that it wouldn't work, that Blake wouldn't come, it had been many years since she had seen him. But he had. He had risked himself, his crew, his ship. For her.

He had saved them, saved them all because they were able to access the storage room in the tower which they hadn't been able to before. That enabled them to survive on X-bar at a much higher standard of living. Even when the Federation had arrived they had been left in peace. Not because the Federation felt sorry for them. They were simply too few to bother about, on a planet that had no other value to the Federation. The X-bar inhabitants had wisely stayed invisible during those few days - a case of out of sight, out of mind.

And it had worked. The Federation had left and they had begun a new life. X-bar became quite a nice place. Not exactly technologically advanced, but comfortable. It had been a good place to live.

Blake had returned to them there after the Andromedan War. He had been wounded and picked up by a hospital ship at some point. But he knew he would not be able to stay anonymous for long so he had sought a refuge. X-bar had been it. He had contacted a supply ship that visited and called Ushton, asking to stay until he was well.

She recalled helping him off the ship. He was weak, wounded quite badly, one side of his face an angry red scar that was puckering through lack of proper medical attention. It had not been tended well, but then, in the middle of a war injuries were rarely treated well. That was left till after.

Blake had been weary, not just in body, but also in soul. He had lost the will to fight, the rebellion was a thing from the past. He needed time and a place to recover fully, and X-bar was the perfect place for that. He soon recovered physically, except for the scarred face, she could do little about that. It bothered him at first, but she had berated him for thinking that it was so important. Especially to her.

Blake seemed to thrive in the quiet, physically demanding rural lifestyle they led. She and he had revived old times. Their prior encounter had left no time for that. And they had found they had grown closer. Firstly, as they had been when they were younger as children, but then as the adults they now were. Ushton had aged over those years, so had been glad to have an extra pair of hands around and had seemed quite happy with their partnership. Especially when their union produced a child. Blake had been thrilled with his son, and revelled in the idea of fatherhood.

However, this relaxed life had helped him to heal too well. More and more his conversations would turn to the rebellion, the Federation. And then they heard further reports of his ship, the Liberator. The names of his compatriots - Avon, Cally, Vila. There were soon other names listed on the Federation's most wanted as well - Dayna Mellanby and Del Tarrant. Inga hadn't known these two. Neither had Blake.

When they heard of the destruction of the Liberator, Inga had been astonished to see Blake cry. It seemed so strange. But the crew had survived. At least the names still went on. The destruction of his ship seemed to spur Blake's ideology, He took less and less interest in his life on X-bar. He listened constantly to information on the communicator about rebel reports, etc. And more and more he mentioned the lack of information about his past companion, Jenna.

Inga hadn't been blind to the way Jenna had looked at Blake, it was obvious to any woman. And when Blake had kissed Inga good-bye in front of Jenna, Inga knew that Jenna would have been happy to kill her. Yet Blake seemed to have been blind to her at that time. But perhaps he hadn't been so completely blind at all. Perhaps that was why his thoughts then turned to Jenna more and more.

Then two things happened. Blake made contact with some rebels on a planet far away that was hoping to rejoin the Federation - Guada Prime. Bounty hunters were there in force and Blake felt that this provided the perfect cover for him. After all, with his scarred face, he now certainly looked the part and he would no longer be so recognisable. That was the first thing. The second was a report that Jenna Stanis was operating in the area. As a smuggler, of course.

The two things combined were enough for Blake to tell Inga that he was leaving. Only for a time, he said. Probably he meant it as well. At least then. He said he wanted to establish a rebel base there on the planet of Guada Prime. In the guise of a bounty hunter, he had the chance to contact other rebels that the Federation were after. And Jenna was there.

He had tried to convince her, and possibly himself, that he was looking for Jenna for her contacts. But Inga knew it was more. Blake was a good man, but his fault was that he loved two women, Inga and Jenna. So he had kissed her and his son goodbye, promising to send for them once things were established and there was some security. He didn't want to risk either of them. And he had gone.

He had sent messages to her at first. Brief, cryptic and in a roundabout manner to prevent the Federation tracking them. Then the messages became fewer - merely saying his plan was working, slowly, but it was working. The last message had said he was about to make contact with Jenna. There had been no more messages after that.

Later the Federation had broadcasted that Blake and his band of rebels had been killed, even listing the names of his past compatriots - Avon and Vila. Inga found that a little strange. Why had they been there? How had they come to be there? Surely Blake would have mentioned to her that his old friends had joined him? Because of that, she had only half believed that report of their deaths. Even now, she didn't know for _certain_, but there had been no reports of rebel activity associated with Blake since then, so it did seem likely that he was dead. She still wondered about what had actually happened.

Now her son was growing older and questioning things also. He had questions that she had no answers for. And he hated his father. She placed the last of the dough in a pan and into the oven, wiping the sweat from her brow with flour covered hands. Perhaps he will understand sometime.


	4. Fragment 4

FRAGMENT 4 

Veril tossed a rock and watched the splash and resulting ripples race towards the bank. She sighed. She was really going to miss her home. Her mother and everyone else here often said it was the most beautiful planet to be found, mainly because they were striving so hard to be certain not to destroy it as had happened to so many planets that belonged to that distant, deadly conglomerate, the Federation.

She gazed up at the beautiful sky, the setting suns casting shades of red, pink, yellow and orange across the landscape. She wished she had some way to capture this all in a bottle and take it with her. She didn't know when she would see it again. Her throat tightened at this thought and her resolve faltered.

No, she mentally shook herself. She was going. She had to go. For all sorts of reasons. She had tried to explain her reasons to people - her friends, her mother, the Elders. Most didn't, or couldn't understand. Her mother did, but that didn't make it any easier to accept that her daughter wanted to find the life and worlds that she had willingly forsook.

In some ways, Veril didn't really understand her reasons herself. It was lots of things. She loved her world, she really did, and she knew she would miss it terribly. She also knew that where she was going would be terrible places and people. Her mother had warned her enough of that. For all that her mother had given up her prior life she could not forsake all the inbuilt cautions that she had grown up with and so had taught Veril how to shoot, using the only gun that had accidentally ended up on the planet.

Her mother was her closest friend. She had always spent hours talking to Veril, explaining to her everything of her prior life, the things she had seen and done, never glossing over the bad bits. The best stories always involved her father. She loved hearing of how they had first met - the thief and the mercenary. It almost sounded romantic - except her mother was essentially a very practical person. But there was no disguising her mother's admiration of her father's skills in cracking the puzzle of the portal. It was due to her father that they were on this beautiful planet at all.

And there was no mistaking the affection with which her mother remembered her father. Veril loved to see that wicked twinkle in her mother's eye when she mentioned that they just had to 'find something to pass the time' when they thought they were going to die! Of which Veril was the direct result.

She sighed and stood. She had better get back. It was almost time. Perhaps that was why she was going. Her mother was the only out-worlder, the only one not to have lived a quiet, secluded peaceful life. Her mother's sense of adventure was obviously hereditary, Veril decided with a half-grimace. Whatever was the reason, she knew she had to leave her home. And she wanted to find out what had happened to her father. He wasn't just revered because he helped them find their new world, he also chose to stay behind to try and stop a madman from blowing everything up, thus allowing her mother to escape. She knew her mother didn't believe he had died then.

"He's too good at surviving." she had told her daughter once. "He had the luck of the gods. Which ever ones you pray to!"

For some reason, Veril believed her. She also felt certain that he had survived that incident. Strange she thought so, considering she had never met him. Perhaps that was another reason she felt compelled to go. A missing part of her life had to be filled.

By now she had reached the open hatch of the spaceship. It had been left there - as a shrine, a monument, an escape route. Who knows. There had been no conscious decision on what to do with it. It had just been left. The entire settlement had arrived. Veril was touched by this. At the forefront was her mother and the Chief Elder, Norman. Her mother had always called him Norman, apparently it had been some sort of joke, back in the other place but it had stuck. He had been one of the most influential people in her life. She smiled fondly at him as she stopped. He smiled benignly down at her.

"Well, my child, the time has come. You were our first child to arrive, it is fitting that you are the first to leave. No doubt others will follow, but never forget where your heart and home awaits." he held his hands out and she took them in silent benediction. She then turned to her mother.

"Well, there's not much else I can tell you." she nudged a bundle at her feet. "Everything you need is here. Remember to be careful when selling the gems. And always remember just how different it is out there. It's nothing like what you're used to here, so don't be caught off guard."

Veril nodded. "I'll remember."

"Good. The portal's clear. Norman," and she smiled fondly at the old man at her side. "said there were any number of volunteers to go through and check it. It's lucky that we were able to find the way to reverse the transference otherwise this would be a moot point. You've got quite a rough climb but a passage has been cleared for you to the surface. Remember where I told you to find the ship?" Veril nodded again. "Well, I guess that's it then. Come here, kiddo." and she enfolded the willing Veril in her arms. "Look after yourself. And be careful."

Veril backed away and picked up her bundle. "I will. And don't worry, mother. As soon as I find out any information about Vila I'll come back."

Kerrill nodded and stood back as her daughter said the rest of her goodbyes and then with a parting smile and wave entered the ship. They all saw her hesitate a moment and then step forwards into the portal. A shimmer in the air and her figure was gone.

Only then did Kerrill let her shoulders slump in despair. A gentle hand on her shoulder make her look up, the previously unshed tears running down her cheeks.

"Come, child, don't grieve. She has merely gone to learn to fly, but she will return one day."

"Do you really think so?" Kerrill desperately sought some small comfort. Norman smiled his slow, warming smile.

"Have faith. And believe."

Although he offered her no more than that, Kerrill felt better. She gave a last look at the ship and resolutely turned her back and went back to her interrupted chores.

Veril paused before stepping into the portal. She could still change her mind she knew. No-one would say anything if she did. But some how that thought gave her the courage to take that final step. She felt a moment of nausea, a feeling of disorientation and a flash of light. A spasm of fear clutched her mind, thinking she would teleport into tons of rock, or the space would be too small for her. She remembered the stories of the weapon the madman had used to try and break through the portal and remembered her mother telling her how much devastation that would cause.

But just as she was able to push these irrational thoughts aside she found herself in the dark silence and knew she was no longer in the ship on her home planet. Fumbling only a little she pulled her torch out and looked around. Markers had been placed for her. Her heart welled with gratitude to the volunteers who had some before her. They had no wish to go but they had risked their lives to check the portal was still functioning and then done everything they could to help her in her endeavour.

Norman had been right in saying that it would be a hard climb but eventually, hot, sweaty and begrimed, she made it to the surface. A grey sky met her, drizzling rain and whipping wind. She looked around and the destruction was still evident even after nearly 20 years. Veril shook her head in amazement, it was difficult to comprehend why anyone would do such a thing. Shrugging her shoulders she got her bearings and set off in the direction her mother had told her.

There, two hours later, she found the ship. She couldn't help but sigh with relief. If the ship had been gone her journey was ended before it began and she would have been forced to return home. But no, the ship was there. She made her way towards it, checking by eye the various things her mother had told her to check for. Her journey could still come of an abrupt halt if she couldn't get the ship started. Or more dramatically, if she tried to take off and there was something seriously wrong. Her mother's pass code still worked the door, though it opened so very slowly. Nearly 20 years of inactivity had taken its toll.

Inside she made her way immediately to the flight deck. Kerrill had admitted that she was no pilot, the best she could do was tell her daughter how to engage the flight checks and automatic pilot. "The rest of it go by the seat of your pants." she had told Veril with a shrug. "And pray!"

Veril again followed her mother's instructions. The ship sluggishly responded, but eventually full power was restored. Lights came on, consoles flickered to life and the engines whirred in response. She tapped in the name of a planet her mother had given her. Kerrill had warned her daughter to check the computer first and once she came closer to any civilised planet request a database update, for the information available would be out-of-date. Her first stop was to get currency and look up an old friend of her mother's, if he was still alive. He should be able to start her on her search for her father.

Once the ship was finally in the sky and the navigation computer had confirmed their destination, Veril leant back with a large sigh of relief. She was finally on her way.


	5. Fragment 5

FRAGMENT 5 

Franton sighed and rubbed tired eyes. She felt old - far older than her years. The last 20 years had taken a huge toll on her and Payter. Raising one teenage is usually hard enough but raising 500! No wonder she had more grey hairs than not!

Their new home was adequate. Nothing compared to what Auron had been, but pleasant, fairly hospitable and the crew of the Liberator had helped them set up their original base. The gene stocks had survived their perilous journey, for which she was extremely thankful. If they hadn't it would have all been a waste of time. But still it hadn't been an easy life. With limited technical help the first batch of gene stock grew slowly. But they were healthy, so as soon as they were certain that no problems were apparent they began the rest.

Franton was relieved that there were no problems, then or now. Her decision to mix the gene stock with human genes had been a difficult one. She and Payter had argued long about it but she had finally convinced him. But before that she had had to argue with herself. It was a fear that mixing the human genes would diminish the telepathic abilities of the Auronar and they would no longer be 'pure'. But her argument was that they weren't Auronar at all. Auron was dead, gone, never to be resurrected. These next generations belonged to their new world and would be a new civilisation.

And as for the human genes diminishing their telepathic abilities, that was only a theory, it was not guaranteed, nor was there any proof. In theory, the Code of Isolation should have protected them. Instead it had spelt their doom. Franton had no wish to repeat that mistake if it could be helped.

She looked back to the small computer screen attempting to study the data showing there, but her mind wandered again. Actually the mixing of the human genes proved more beneficial. It did nothing to diminish the telepathic ability. In fact it had helped increase it. Not astoundingly so, but noticeably enough for Payter to also comment on it. The human genes seemed sturdier than the standard Auron ones and so helped boost the Auronar's natural abilities. It was a pity that there was such a limited stock - all of it coming from the crew of the Liberator. But then again, that stock was quite varied and there was more than one dark skinned child to be seen, a legacy from Dayna Mellanby. Franton smiled a little. Yes, she could look at many of those around her and see parts of the crew of the Liberator in them. That stock will well and truly be intermingled with the coming generations.

Another difference that Franton felt would be an improvement over old Auron was that of natural conception and childbirth. She had been able to rebuild the gene labs to a simple level, the Liberator crew had provided them with enough funds that they could covertly contact freighters and get black-market supplies. But she didn't want to rely on the lab as they had done before. She wanted to see the establishment of families again and the intermingling of the genes further. There were no children for the next generation - yet. But with this many 15-20 year olds it would only be a matter of time, but she hoped that they would check the database carefully first before beginning physical intimacy to be certain they were not from the same original clone batch. She sighed again. Soon there will be more crying children. Oh, well, it was a sign that they still lived. Despite Servalan's best efforts to destroy them - they still lived on. And were growing, were better and stronger than they had been before.

Her brow furrowed slightly. Could it be that the Federation actually did them a favour in a macabre sense? It would appear, in hindsight, that they had been slowly decaying as it was, without realising it. Would they have slowly died out as a race anyway? Ironic, if they had the Federation to thank for becoming a stronger race than they were before! And doubly ironic if they ever had the chance to revenge the death of Auron! Oh, yes, the Federation would find that most amusing. Hopefully they would die laughing.

She mentally shook herself. It did no good dwelling on negative thoughts of revenge. If it came, it was a long time to come in the future. And she had much better work to be concentrating on. There came a knock at the door, bringing her out of her reverie.

"Yes?" she called, looking up. The door opened and a tall, young man entered.

You're tired. You're working too hard again. 

"Out loud, please, Calan. You know what I've told you." He rolled his eyes but did as she requested.

"It's not as efficient." he said.

"I agree." replied Franton. "But just remember that we are the only ones to have telepathic ability and so to communicate with others we must vocalise our thoughts. Never rely too much on one ability to the detriment of all others."

"Something you've learnt from the past?" he enquired, hooking over another chair and sitting.

"Yes. We rarely left our planet and those that did suffered greatly from not being around other telepathic beings. I don't want any of you to feel like that if you go. Think of your telepathy as merely an extra tool, convenient when there is a use for it but not a necessity of life."

"Leave?" he said, tilting his head to one side and regarding her with deep, dark eyes.

She opened her mouth to reply and paused. Why did the conversation come round to leaving, to travelling? She swallowed against a lump in her throat. She knew why. Calan was going to leave, was thinking of it, wanted to. And his subconscious thoughts had leaked through to her. Being a surrogate mother to them all had attuned her to their needs and wants. She took a deep calming breath.

"So," she began "It has begun. How many of you?" She saw the look flash across his face. Surprise that she knew, and then relief.

"Only myself."

She raised an eyebrow at that. She had expected that they would go in groups. Calan continued. "I've been thinking about it for a while now. I need to see what's out there. I need to know what's happening first hand. I want to help if I can."

Oh dear, Franton thought, I didn't check his clone batch. Could it have been contaminated? She dismissed the foolish thought. Freedom fighting was not a genetic code! Yet it still seemed such an unlikely coincidence, that it made her feel uneasy. Perhaps she should have expected it. Calan resembled his genetic 'mother's' batch far more than any others. The large eyes, the high cheekbones and wide mouth, the lean face and physical frame, even down to the softly waving hair and passion. It was slightly unnerving in a way.

Franton could not help but think of the many myths of Auron - stories of lost souls who roamed the universe being reborn again and again until they succeeded in their task and could finally rest. Was Cally's spirit a lost soul? Was that why she had forsaken Auron in the pursuit of freedom? Has her soul been reborn again? Is that why her 'son' is now going? Would that soul continue on into the next generation, and the next, always taking the best from them?

For Franton had to admit that Calan was the best they had so far. The best telepath, the most ablest student, the quickest mind. He would do well off planet. She didn't want to lose him, but nor could she keep him chained here. Franton pushed all mystical thoughts from her mind. He was going, that's all there was to it.

"When?" she asked

"As soon as we can contact a ship to take me off."

"What are you going to do?" she wanted to know.

"Find out what really happened to them." No need to ask who 'them' were.

"And then?"

He shrugged. "I'll see."

She suppressed the irrational fear that she was letting him go to his death. It was his choice and she could not change that.

"Very well. I'll put a call out, probably the supply vessel coming in three days time will be willing to take you on as a passenger. In fact, why not go as crew? That would give you a good opportunity to learn some space travel."

His brow furrowed slightly as he thought that through and then he nodded. "Yes. That would be good. It'll give me something practical with which I can trade in the outside worlds. I'll do that then." He stood to leave as Franton turned back to her console and began to tap out the message.

"I'll leave word with you once I get confirmation." she said before he left.

"Franton?"

"Yes?" she answered absently as she continued working.

"Would she have been proud of me?"

Franton turned in surprise and knew instinctively who he meant. And what could she say to him. How to answer. That 'she' had left, gone into exile, seen friends, family, loved ones die and finally died herself. Alone and apart from those she loved. And this was the life he was now going to actively seek. Franton finally answered him, slowly, honestly.

"Yes, Calan. Cally would have been proud."

And his blinding smile answered her as he left.


End file.
